Journal of Number 779
by I-am-The-Mathgoth
Summary: A new neighbor moves into Johnny's 'hood, writing a journal of her experiences. Chapter 10, the final Chapter in Part 1, is up.
1. Week One

This was originally written in my actual journal, though it's unfinished. I usually don't like fan fictions but this was a good exercise to get over my writer's block. Plus, I love Jhonen Vasquez. 

Disclaimer: I own everyone and everything. Bow to me.

**One Random Month**

Tuesday 6:13 am - What a perfect time to start a new journal; moving into a brand new house in a brand new city. Actually, this house isn't that new, but it's in fairly good shape, and is cheap enough to afford, even on my limited income. The yards are a bit overgrown, but its nothing a lawn mower couldn't cure. Not that I own one yet. Anyway, in comparison to my next door neighbor, who has no grass, my little shack looks like something out of Better Homes and Gardens. I wasn't even sure that's someone lived there until I noticed that there lights flickering behind those boarded up windows.

Anyway, tonight I get the couch; I don't feel like going through the endless boxes looking for my bed stuff. I'm too tired to unpack ANYTHING, and with no TV as of yet, I have nothing to do BUT sleep. I hope there's something to do downtown.

Wednesday 8:37 pm - Spent all day yesterday and most of today unpacking stuff. I was hoping that some friendly neighbor would come over with a jello mold and maybe help me but alas...no one left their house at all. It rained all day. But, I got some things accomplished. I went downtown to check out the scene and bought a decent pair of jeans from some trendy store. They were on sale and looked durable. I'm sick of wearing the Salvation Army all the time.

Mom phoned me today, asking me if I needed any help getting "settled". She really disliked me leaving the rest of the clan so far behind, but I was really craving a change. This place is okay so far...The neighborhood is nice and quiet.

Thursday 10:41 pm - Met one of my neighbors today. The one in the house with no grass. I saw him leave around 9-ish with a backpack, so I decided to leave the safety of my house to introduce myself.

I can't accurately guess his age, but I'm going to guess that he somewhere between dumb angry teenager and angst-y adult. He's got the recently-deceased look down pat. He looked like such the gothling! I didn't know people still wore knee high buckled boots! Still, I was once an angry teenager and don't think I've gotten over my interest in the goth guys. I am a loser, I am such a loser.

Anyway, I introduced myself, he introduced HIMSELF ("My name is Johnny but you may call me 'Nny'"), we made some meaningless small talk, parted ways...he was quite the oddball but I'm not one to talk.

Friday 3:11 pm - Found out house 781 is empty. Broke in and spray painted a big purple smiley face on the living room wall. Now I feel somewhat accomplished. I'm going to reward myself with a movie night. Is there a Blockbuster around here?

Saturday 4:23 am - God what a friggin' night. I found a local video store and rented two monster movies. Come midnight, I pop the first one in and settle down, only to be alerted an hour later to loud noises coming from somewhere down the hall. Since I had just spent an hour watching a violent slasher monster flick, naturally, I flip out and try to find a weapon of some sort.

I wander over to the kitchen and pulled out one of the kitchen knives in the drawer, angry at myself for leaving my baseball bat in one of the boxes in the garage. Anyway, the second I turn around with it, I bump right into Gothling Johnny. I scream so loud I think I scared the piss out of him. He kung fu's the thing out of my hand and I think I shit myself right there. He holds up both hands, palms out (in the universal gesture of "I'm not armed").

Once I stopped hyperventilating, he calmly explains that he came by for a can opener. I must have given him a really stupid look because he stared at me for 5 seconds, then repeated his inquiry, this time accompanying it with an obscene gesture that was supposed to mimic a can opener.

"You broke into my house," I ask, "for an can opener?"

"Um...yes," he said slowly, "I got this can of chicken noodle that's been sitting for three days on my counter and at this point, I would really like to eat it...oh, here it is." he opened a drawer, reaching around my person to do so, and pulled out a brand new can opener that I haven't even removed from the packaging yet.

"You don't mind, do you?" he asked casually. I found my voice again and was about to calmly explain that I did NOT appreciate him entering my house without my permission like this, but he waved off my speech as though it was nothing.

"Yeah, sorry about that...but I do appreciate the opener. I haven't eaten in a few days."

Days? No wonder he looked sick. He excused himself from my kitchen and walked himself out, stopping only to comment on my choice of movie.

After he left, I seriously contemplated calling the police. But then again, I didn't want to make trouble in a new neighborhood...but if I didn't do anything, this guy might break in all the time for stuff. Anyway, upon further inspection, I noticed that he didn't actually BREAK in, he slipped through my window right above my bed...how he slid it open, I don't know, but nothing seemed broken. In the end, I decided to just call it a night and get some sleep...in the living room. With my doors locked.

Sunday 7:01 pm - Hey! There are actually kids in this neighborhood! Which sucks cuz I really hate kids! 2 houses down there's this little kid who rides his tricycle up and down the sidewalk in front of his house only. He's also a neighbor to Mr. Psycho Johnny. I wonder if his house got broken into. I want my can opener back, I have this can of broccoli and cheese soup I wish to consume. I HATE RAMEN.

Monday Noon-Thirty - so Johnny shows up around 3 friggin AM to return my opener. I was actually almost asleep, in my pj's, hair and face a complete mess, and he, at least, does me the favor of knocking on my door this time. I thanked him, told him to "get off my lawn" and promptly went back to my room and passed out. Of course, I woke up not 3 hours later to the sound of a woman making the loudest, most traumatizing moaning noises I've heard. Ever. Johnny must be one HELL of a lover. I wanna stab him though, because he kept me awake from 6-something till...now. I need a nap.

Tuesday 8:57 pm - Whoo! My first week on Vasquez street is complete! To celebrate, I took myself out for a fancy diner to Nicey's, A family oriented restaurant downtown. Damn they have good burgers. Also, I asked for an application. I need a job. And a boyfriend. And...a life. That last one comes with the money and boy-toy however, so I have to be patient.

Wednesday3:33 pm -I planted some flowers around the house today...mowed the lawn with a borrowed mower from the people ACROSS the street cuz I doubt Mr. Johnny is very adept with power tools. His yard looks like a battlefield. BUT I will have to mosey on over there eventually cuz I got to listen to the moaning again last night and I'll be damned if I'm gonna lose anymore sleep over the thought of HIM doing..._things_...being so skinny and deathly looking as he is. Argh but the images keep coming. It _burns._


	2. Week Two

Thursday 9:00 pm - Took a nice long walk around the block sometime today around...2 am? This is one creepy, quiet neighborhood. I wandered under a street lamp and sat there on a gutter for a little while, breathing in the closest thing I have to fresh air now. Of course, I wasn't in "tune" with nature or anything...I had Metallica blaring on my headphones. Ooh, and I noticed that my not-so-close neighbor the kid on the trike doesn't sleep at night. Or else, his house didn't. The whole house had blaring lights on till around 5, and then it was light enough to not need them anyway. Johnny's house was silent (for once) and totally dead.

I got home and went to bed. Woke up around 2 pm. Called in to find out what my application for Nicey's was doing. They requested I come in for an interview sometime on Monday, around noon-ish. Sweet. Haily gets a job.

Friday 3:45 am - This is originally written on a yellow legalpad under the street lamp a ways down my block. With purple ink. I have just witnessed something spooky.

Around 1 am, I head out for a walk because I'm cool and spooky that way. 1:15 (approximately) I bump into Mr. Psycho Johnny, slurping a cherry slushie and looking like he dripped the entire contents of it down his shirt. Actually, he looked like an accident victim, which was kinda cool but the way he seemed uberly dazed concerned me. He was real polite though. He stopped and asked me how I liked the 'hood, sorry for scaring me that night last week, thank you for the opener, sorry for returning it at a weird hour, and also what the heck am I doing wandering around at 1:30 in the morning?

I told him that its not that I have insomnia, I just have no motive to keep a healthy sleep schedule cuz I am a bum and have no job. Yet. He nodded knowingly at me and said "Well...I just dont sleep." Whoo. Tre Goth!

He asked me my hobbies. I didn't give him a straight answer, but flirted around some interests that Im way to lazy to really persue..."some photography, some writing occationally...you?"

"I...used to draw," he said between deep inhales of his slushie, "But I have since lost my appetite to create with ink and canvas. I work with the flesh now." He said this with a perfectly striaght face, staring me square in the eye, sipping a drink that should have been giving him massive ice-headaches.

"...so did Buffalo Bill," I said carefully. He laughed at me. He walked away laughing. I felt really stupid. So I walked into town, bought a legal pad, a set of purple and pink ink pens and sat here under a street lamp for a while. People suck.

Saturday Midnight - There's woods near here! I walked down to them yesterday afternoon. There's a mini pond here too. Very pretty. I dont dare walk into them in the dead of night because I still have a fear of the extreme dark in a place I have never been before that could be crawling with animals and homicidal maniacs...but it's all very pretty nonetheless.

My flowers...they dont grow. I don't know why.

Sunday 9:00 pm - Update: Im bored.

Monday 10:55 pm - Oh yes! Haily's got an official job AND schedule for when she works it..I start tomorrow, from 5:30 pm till midnight. How fuckin perfect is that? I get to keep my insane nighttime schedule, and have time to sleep before my next shift. To celebrate, I'm making jello.

Tuesday 4:00 pm - Wish me luck, y'all.

Wednesday 3:23 am - (written originally in a notebook with purple ink) I think all my journal entires will be long hand from now on. I cant carry my desktop everywhere. Have half a mind to waltz down to Johnny's and ask WTF IS WITH THAT SEXY MOANING MAN? Maybe I want me some of that. I never see anyone but him leave that house though...I must keep on a look out for what kind of woman he likes. 


	3. Week Three

**Hi Guys. I rewrote my third chapter because I had intended to have him just waste her and move on. But I decided to extend things a bit. So, enjoy.**

**The MathGoth**

Thursday  
8:09 am - I havent even slept yet. Work is...taking a verly long time to get used to BUT I made a new friend last night. I was seating this angry looking couple and the woman decides that Nicely's looked too shifty, so she left. I made sure they were out of ear shot and mumbled "Its cuz Im black isnt it?" and I heard laughter behind me. I felt real stupid when I noticed that the other hostess, an actual black person, was standing RIGHT there, while little ole white me is makin' black jokes. But she seemed really nice about, and we played the dozens all night. You know..."you're so black if you wore a white shirt you'd look like a cup of coffee". I dont remember some of the really funny ones, but by the end of the night me and her couldnt stop laughing. And shes the REALY black, not like, brown and ghetto-fabulous, but the African black as night kind of black. With no accent so I assume shes from here. In America. Whoo.

Friday  
Midnight - Just got home, todays my day off (whoohoo). I have a plan for today...I have to go like, bug my next door neighbor the Gothling because Im bored and need to make some friends here. I mean, Its been over a week (or even two I lost count) and I dont even have anyones number yet. Oh, but I totally scared the little kid on our street shitless by jumping out form behind a tree yesterday on my way home from work. He was outside (at 1 am, Im not kidding) in front of the Gothling's house (was he inside at some point?) and I just said "boo" and he...screamed like a mouse. High pitched and squeaky. Now, I feel kinda bad. Im a horrible person.

7 am - Oh man. I didnt even need to visit the Gothling, he came to MY house. It was around 3 am, I was watching TV and he knocks on my door. He was returning some mail that got mis-delivered, you know, my girly fashion magazines. He said he flipped through one and expressed that he hoped I didnt take my fashion and makeup advice from a dead tree and ink, so I invited him inside for sopme coffee. Witch he didnt like so I gave him grape Kool-Aid instead and we talked.

Man it was bizarre. He's really kind of a creepy person...finally I was able to have a discussion about how to hide a body effectivly. I dont knwo how that topic was brought up, but it was 5 am before I knew it...the sun was coming up. I swear he looked out my window with such distatse I thought he was going to hiss, turn into a bat, and fly out of my house back to his coffin. But before he rushed out, he asked If I wanted to join him for some canned soup at his house, granted I dragged my DVD player along cuz he wanted to watch a movie. His cable apparently was cut off for that whole not-paying thing. Cool. I made another friend!

Saturday  
4:32 pm - I got work in half an hour but I think Ill take some time to express what we did this morning, since I showed up at his house at one am. We spent about 45 minutes plugging the DVD player into his television set because it was old as heck.

Oh, and his house...insane. He opened the door to me (wet from the rain even though I only ran from next door, and covered in mud since his yard is just...loose soil) and said to "watch my step". The floor was covered in broken glass from the windows that either he or some neighboor hooligans smashed in, the walls were filthy, and worst of all, he has weapons, actual knives and such, stuck into the walls like pins. I must have looked horrified or else just really stupid, standing and dripping mud onto his glass shards, cuz he waved a hand in front of my face, and when I didnt respond, he grabbed the DVD player out of my arms so fast, he must be a lot stronger than he looked.

I told him his house looked hazardous. He laughed at me and said to "not take off my shoes". Speaking of which, I noticed his were cool. Knee high boots, with metal tips that gleamed but looked rather scuffed, cloven like a cows. I remember some of the conversation we had while setting up the player, but I remember his appearence most of all. Let me be shallow for a second and discuss it:

1. Black hair that is either dyed or he is of Asian decent, which he is not.  
2. Perpetual stripped black shirt that ends in coat tails in the back...which is cool because Ive never seen that before. I wonder if he makes his own clothes?  
3. Beige skin. I wanna feed him some of that chunky beef soup...you know, the one from the commercials with the black mother and the football team.  
4. Real skinny. Like...anorexic stick figure skinny.

Oh man, but we played some disks too. He has this wicked old stereo and some CD'S and we playedthe "Untouchables" album from Korn. He sang along with some of it, and it so scary,he has a voice very similar to Jonathan Davis (although he claimed that his name is spalled "Johnny" not "Jonathan"). Kinda high pitched and mental-patient sounding. But he sounds real hissy when just talking. Eh. Ima stop gushing about him now and like...go to work. Shit. Im late.

Sunday  
Some random time late at night - Im bored. And I dressed goth today for no reason. Johnny's bringing out my inner goth...like in High School. Damn it.

Monday  
3:00 am - Iforgot to tell him to notbe loud at night. Theres screaming happening again. Oh man, I think Im jealous. Theres a lot of passion happening too. Oh...it stopped. Ug.

Tuesday  
10:39 am - Yeay! Johnny came over technically this morning with a can of Spegettios...spagettios?...something like that...the little hoops of noodles and icky sauce. He said he watches me walk home from work sometimes and I look tired. Too bad he such a playboy cuz hes real nice sometimes too. He also admired my journal (this one) when he tipped over my bag and spilled all my shit out (while passionately yelling about the decline of the humanity..something depressing like that). I wrapped it up in black duct tape and used my lable maker to print out my name on it...it looks kinda industrial and I like it. He has one too apparently...cool, I can snoop next time Im over his house.


	4. Random Week

(written some time later with red ink)

One random day:

God. I don't know what day it is.

Unbelievable things have been happening. I was force fed today...do you know how degrading it is to be force fed? It wasn't my first time, Johnny has been doing it for days because I stopped eating, but its awkward every time.

He had to resort to wrapping his legs around my torso and holding both my arms back with one hand and shoving food - usually French fries it seems - into my mouth. Sometime I eat, other times I just bite at his fingers, or my own tongue. I've bitten it so many times I think I may permanently hindered my speech. I lisp a little.

I end up throwing the food up, and even if he tried to tape my mouth shut, he knows I wont hesitate to vomit for the sake of choking on it and dying. he's been refusing me suicide for a while.

How else am I supposed to get away from him?

So he, instead, threatens me. He tells me he'd do the same thing to me. He's talking about the Skinned Man.

Ever read a book on the human body and come across a page on muscles? The red, ropy things on your bones that they show in the pictures? Red and so carefully placed?

They really do look like that.

It was some time ago when we were friends. I walked downstairs one night when he went into the kitchen and I switched the light on...

My god. It was a human body, chained to a wall and the skin was totally missing from it. I could see the muscles on it.

I turned and ran back upstairs. Where I tripped over a board (my ears were ringing and the room was spinning at the time so I couldn't see...or walk) and Johnny, who may have been there the whole time, caught me under my arms and let me puke all over his cool boots. I did so until I was getting mostly liquid and my arms ached from him holding me up so I didn't fall face first into it. My knees had landed in a pile of glass and were a bit cut, but not too badly...I was crying I remember that. I was really, really crying, howling, screaming, and the second he let me up, I tried to get away only to realize that I was way too dizzy. I saw his face as he restrained my arms (they were pulling his hair and scratching whatever part of him he could reach) and he looked determined.

I had seen a skinned man. I was haunted for a long time. I blacked out frequently. I don't remember what happened when I woke up, but Johnny's face popped up a lot...cleaning the floor of my puke (I did that a lot) or just over my own face, mouth moving, talking to me, moving my arms or legs, bending my limbs as if testing to see if I was awake. Then tried feeding me, and when I refused, he crammed things into my mouth. Eventually had to seriously restrain me.

I woke up one day feeling more coherent then I had in a while. I didn't scream or cry when he unlocked the door to my little room (with only a beat up old couch as a furniture) and walk in which a syringe, a burger, and a straitjacket. The needle scared me but I just held up my hands and said,

"Don't. Please don't. I wont make a sound."

This time he didn't put me into the jacket. This time he didn't stab me with the needle and sedate the fuck out of me. I ate the burger slowly, each bite threatening to bring up the little food I've eaten in the last few days.

This was yesterday. 


	5. Sent by Moose

_Hi! Yeah, I didnt plan on actually making this into a continuing story, but I was bored so...here's the next chapter. If anyone has a request about what should happen next, since im doing this as i go along, y'all can give me some ideas. _

Monday 

6:45 pm - I eat now. Yeah, I ate an entire burger yesterday again and I think its progress. Kept all my food down too.

I asked Johnny when he plans on killing me. This was while he was sitting across the room from me, watching me eat from under the shag of his crazy hair. He looked pretty damn tired so I expect he was nodding off (watching other people is creepy for the eater and boring for the watcher). He gave this puzzled look and asked me why I though he was going to kill them when he had just given me food. And was prepared to cram it down my throat if necessary.

"The world is so much more interesting with you in it," he said in his best Hopkins-Lecter impression and this struck me as the funniest thing I've ever heard. I laughed so long I started crying again and he had no choice but to crawl over to my side of the room and hold me down while jabbing my side with a needle that put me out so fast I didn't have time to tell him I wasn't crying because I was sad. I was crying because I laughed too hard. But he never listens to reason.

Tuesday

Some time - I realized my clock broke when I stared at the hands for a good 1000 counts and they didn't move.

I remembered how when he had done his Hannibal impression, in the book "Hannibal", in the end, Hannibal and Clarice lived together because he kept her insanely drugged for a long time. It occurred to me that that's what Johnny must have been doing because I lose time sometimes, usually after he comes in for food or something.

So I try hard to stay calm. I remember my name. I am Hailey Santiago. I am not Puerto Rican. I am a former hostess at Nicey's because I know they fired me by now.

Wednesday

Some random time: I FOUND MY ANKH. When he threw my backpack into the room a few days back with my stuff, my ankh necklace wasn't among them. I lost it sometime between that night and...um...last night. But he returned it a little while ago, saying it was lying on the floor.

This is best thing that's happened to me in forever. I finally get back my necklace, my backpack with my stuff, my journal which has been keeping me very very sane these last few days, and I even busted out of this room in celebration like an hour ago. The door was locked but the lock was the kind you could beat off. Beat off with a heavy object. Like a plank. I have come to realize that you should never question certain things.

Thursday

Does this place have a clock?

Things are quiet. I wonder if he got rid of the Skinned Man. I didn't see any more of that sort of thing going on so maybe it was like...I dunno, maybe he's in the mafia or something.

Things are looking up.

Friday 

So there I was, standing up on the couch, trying to reach the light bulb because it was flickering and I was afraid it was going to end up giving me a seizure, when Johnny burst in so fast I thought something was wrong...I mean, wrong in a THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE sense. He had a vase in his hand and for reason unknown to me, he reared back and flung it at my head so fast that if I hadn't had ducked, he would have knocked my brains out.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" he screamed at me. I jumped off the couch (where I had been huddled, actually) and tried to back away, but he grabbed my foot and dragged me on my back closer.

"WHO ARE YOU? WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL HERE?" he was yelling. So I punched him in the face. This friend of mine had taught me how to hold my hand like a fist with the most effective punch I could deliver (I'm not very strong) and like he recommended, my knuckles connected with his nose. Bulls eye.

All this did was snap his head back. But he lowered it slowly, and man, he has the most insane eyes ever. He had one hand clutching my side (I'm not fat but the skin was being pulled and it hurt) and another already wrapped around my throat. He wasn't holding it tightly at all, but if he were to simply squeeze just a bit...

"Go away," I said in the bravest voice I could make, "get off me, go away."

He seemed to snap back to himself and narrowed his eyes at me.

"Not," he said through clenched teeth, "until you tell me why you're following me."

I must have given him another really stupid look, like the day with the can opener, because he rolled his eyes and pulled himself to his feet.

"You," he began, swiping one hand through his hair, "you've been sent by the thing, right? Did moose send you?"

Moose? _Moose?_ Was he kidding me?

"What moose? What the _fuck_ are you talking about?" and, as long as I had his attention, "let me out NOW!"

He flung his hand towards the door.

"Door's right there." He turned and stalked out. I wonder if he was even aware that the click of the handle meant he had just locked it...again.


	6. The Vessel?

Later:

Oh man. I did something real dumb. See, I was against the door, the only exit out of my room, and trying to find that weak spot. I don't know how people find a weak spot on anything, but I was feeling the door for half an hour before I decided to try something different. I got up, and kicked it. Real hard. I mean, REAL hard. Totally smashed my foot through the rotting wood and scarped my ankle pretty bad pulling it back in. It wasn't a solid oak door that you have to like, hack with an axe to get through. It was a regular door, like the one you might see in a regular suburban house. And I had just crashed my foot through it.

After that, it was not too hard to just shake it open. He may have locked it but he didn't anticipate anyone pushing it till it opened.

So I finally escaped the damned room. With its clean but musty old couch, and flickering light bulb, and now, vase pieces shattered all over the floor. The floor gave me splinters anyway.

I was now down a real long hallway, my door being the only one I could see. Till I turned the corner and saw an new hallway filled with doors. I only had my shirt with the short sleeves on, I have no idea where my hoodie had gone, so I was kind of cold walking down hallway after hallway. Some door had noises behind them, like, people talking or loud wails or something really really awful, so I didn't want to open them. I think I was crying the whole way down the hall.

The halls themselves were...really...god I cant explain it. They smelled like...rotting meat sometimes...they went from extreme cold to sweltering heat. I could swear I can just found my way into hell. I walked through rooms...I thought the skinned man was horrible. I saw people, lying on tables with they backs split open, I saw cages, I spent so long just running to avoid the screams of people asking for help.

Its hard for me to even write this without shaking so bad...

They hung from the ceiling, on the walls...I got sick thinking that I was carried down this far amid all those people...how was he able to stand this?

I lost it at one point. I was crawling (I couldn't walk, I had to crawl out of those rooms) through this one room and tried to ignore the blood dripping down one entire wall but I started screaming. Really hard. I must have been doing it for a while because the next thing I remember is that someone was turning me over (I was on my stomach). It was HIM, and he was pulling me to my feet. His hands kept slipping off my arms; he had blood all over them and they were slick. I fought to keep down my burger.

So there we are, he has his arms around my abdomen and I'm being carried, again, down the hallways. He was talking to me, asking me questions, talking about everything and anything, while I'm too doped up to respond. And it hurt. He was really crushing my stomach.

He put me down once I stopped kicking and I stumbled ahead of him and he guided me through rooms.

Now it where it got fuzzy. I saw blurs and heard muffled yells...and woke up back in a little room.

This one is different. It doesn't have a couch, but a little mattress. It has a book self of sorts, and a single yellow light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Otherwise, its pure darkness.

I wish I had remembered some of what he was saying.

(one sleep cycle later)

So he came down earlier today. With my backpack.

"You stay in this room," he said as I cowered in the corner of the room, "because if you get out again, I'm just going to kill you. I don't care what you say to me." he was pacing the room when he talked, and now he came up real close to my face, and whispered to me.

"I know you can hear me. You think you can hide behind her. I wont put up with you for much longer."

What the hell? Lets talk then.

"I don't know what your talking about," I said, or tried to say. I don't know how it came out but he seemed to understand.

"Of course not," he said standing up over me, "you cant hear it." he tapped his temple with his index finger. "I'm sorry miss Hailey. Sorry you have to...be the vessel. I thought I was...the only one around here. If it makes you feel any better," he concluded, backing up to the door, "I don't want to have to kill you."

Gee. Thanks. 


	7. Less Coharent Life

Sunday Three: oh-five ae-em

So I walked in on Johnny walking some movie earlier tonight. We shared some caramel popcorn and laughed at this made-for-tv movie that I don't know what it was, but it was funny. It had a gay cop in it.

Then I tired to dive out the window and may have broken my nose trying it. Johnny and me sat in his bathroom for half an hour alternating between tissues to keep the blood from dripping out of my head. We learned a lot about each other. Well, as much as I could about him, who didn't have much to say about his past. He was very preoccupied with the present though, and the immediate past with the Moose, as he called it. He claimed he once killed himself and the "Wall Thing" made it out and ended the universe. I asked when this was and he asked me the year. Which I laughed at him for and dripped blood on my shirt, which I had been wearing for so long it was beginning to fuse into my skin.

Once I had my nose more-or-less dry, I waited in the kitchen with a can of soup while he cleaned out the bathtub because I said that I NEEDED to shower. I didn't have any shampoo or soap, so he made a quick trip over my house to grab my old stuff, along with some clean towels, jeans and a shirt, a friggin sweater, my deodorant AND, I specifically asked for, my perfume. It smells like lavender and I hoped it would overpower the copper smell. The upstairs isn't nearly as bad as the lower levels. He locked me into the bathroom while doing this all, by the way. I had my first handcuffed-to-the-pipes experience.

There is nothing on this EARTH more satisfying than a good shower. The water was too warm (it felt good) and I forgot to have him bring over lotion and conditioner, so my hair was frizzy and hard to brush out, and my skin was dry and itchy, and my jeans were the torn ones that made my left knee REALLY cold, but my god, it was the best shower Ive ever had.

He called me some names while attending to my nose that I've never heard before. He also asked me if I was sent by the Moose, and I had to say "no", and wondered what would have been his reaction if I said yes. I don't remember exact words of the conversation (I was busy bleeding profusely) but he began telling me of his personality. It was listening to my grandmother; he kept going on about his own problems, his inability to concentrate anymore, inattention, extreme anti-social behavior (which made me laugh and I sneeze/cough/laughed blood into his hand, which he didn't even blink at, he just wiped it on his pants and pulled out another roll of toilet paper) so I told him he's ADHD. Which made HIM laugh, and listening to his evil chuckle reminded me of the time I compared him to the villain from the Silence of the Lambs movie and he laughed at me then too.

A little Later:  
Johnny put on a KoRn cd wicked loudly and we sang along with it for an hour, bouncing on his sofa. We watched the sun come up through one of the windows, and he stuck his head out the window and screamed GOOD MORNING SQUEE and the next door neighbors window shut. That little kid on the trike, that's right.  
Monday Midnight: thirty-six

Squee is that little kids nickname. Johnny said he and Squee are the closest thing to friends you can be. I asked him how he figured a little kid and an older dude could possibly get along when one is a serial killer and one is 10. He just grinned more broadly than its possible to grin but said nothing.

Its sick, really. I tried calling the police but they...don't...pick ...UP...since when does "911" have hold music?

I hid myself in the bathroom, still cleaned out, for three hours and wondered about things. I heard Johnny move around...change stuff...drag things, bang pipes, I heard screaming from downstairs, (ran some water to avoid it) and took a pill to help me sleep because Johnny has a medicine cabinet full of expired medication, and more medication than I've ever seen outside a drug store. Tylenol PM's are pretty harmless, so I just took the bottle with me and fell asleep on the couch.

Which makes this now a Wednesday, not Tuesday...wait...does it?

Either way... I'm not getting out this house alive, am I? 


	8. Developing a Relationship

Thursday Four: twenty-six aye-em

Johnny ruined my childhood today. I asked him why the yellow power ranger never had a skirt though she was a girl like that pink one and he didn't even turn his head from the TV when he asked if I remember whether or not either one of them had breasts. I wanted to look up "power rangers" and "boobies" online but I know that would lead some very strange search results.

Oh, and I got rid of my other notebook. Not rid of, per say, but I tossed it in a drawer and made my own. Johnny was just happening to be binding another notebook anyway and showed me how to do it...I don't remember now but I do have a brand new notebook with a shiny new black duct tape cover and my picture inside. Johnny took a Polaroid of me. I was wearing a very old cheerleader sweater that he pulled out for me. Now that I think back on it...it was creepy.

He begun to either forget my name or else give me a new one. I am known as either "Hailey" or else, "Batgirl". I'm going to assume this is because the only shirt I had with me was my batman logo t-shirt.

Saturday Midnight-ish

Batgirl told Johnny to leave the house apparently. I'm home alone locked in my little room. I have this notebook, a bevy of color pens, and a bottle of sleeping pills. What normal person WOULDN'T try and commit suicide and write a letter right now?

Sunday I have no idea what time this is.

Me, apparently. I took three and then just passed out for a few hours, until Johnny came back downstairs dragging behind him some random dude with dreadlocks. White people do not pull dreadlocks off nearly as well as black people.

This random dude was screaming and pleading and crying the whole night and got real quiet by morning-ish. I think it was morning because I was getting sleepy and I usually get sleepy by morning.

Now that he was home, Johnny saw no reason to lock me up so I was left to wander around. I wandered until I found Mr. Dreadlocks. He was chained to a wall with his head half shaved. Violently. There may have been skin missing too, he was generally bloody. And that may not have even been all him, when Johnny gets into his mood, everyone within a 20 foot radius gets fucked.

He was awake and lucid enough to start begging once he saw me. It was a lot like "please please don't let him kill me" and such things. I really had no idea what to do about him till Johnny came back. So there I was in a corner of the room curled up and pondering what to do with Mr. Dreadlocks, while the man himself was crying himself into a mess on the other side of the room and Johnny was standing with a newly cleaned electric razor in his hands.

A funny thing happened. He turns to me and starts asking me questions that I had no idea how to answer. Mostly about himself. All this is going on while he's shaving the dreads right off Mr. Dreadlocks. If Mr. Dreads would quit squirming, maybe Johnny would miss the skin and there would be a little less blood and a lot less screaming going on...and you know Nny's blocking my ONLY exit out of the room because I'd have to walk right by him to reach the door.

Once he was more or less done relieving him of hair, Johnny stood back up, wiped his hand on his shirt, then ran it through his hair, tilted his head to the side until it cracked loudly (like a shotgun), and approached me.

"Hailey," he said getting my name right for once, "how is it that you are able to stay so...neutral to that inside your head?"

See, your guess is as good as mine as to what he meant. I just flapped my mouth in confusion trying to figure out something coherent to say.

"Batgirl," he continued, running another hand through his hair and slicking it down with blood, "she listens to you, doesn't she?" He bent down until he was so close to my face I could hear him blink.

"Tell her," he whispered softly, "tell her that..." he thought I didn't notice the fact that he was slowly moving his hands to the sides of my head but despite that I felt I could move anywhere to get away from him, being pressed up against a wall anyway. "Tell her I'm listening now." and with that, he grabs at my hair and pulled me roughly to my feet. "Tell her if she wants to talk, she can do it herself," he tilted my head back painfully, still tugging my hair. "You'll tell her?" he asked me "you'll say something wont you?"

I gasped out a "yes" or something close to it and he let go. While I rubbed the back of my head carefully, he picked me up, slung me over his skinny shoulder, and I was hauled off back into my room, Mr. Dreads now eerily quiet. And dreadless.

Saturday Noon?

Last night's episode put Johnny into a deceptively good mood. We're both upstairs in the "living room" (haha!) watching tv and doing our own quiet little activities. He's doodling something on a piece of paper with both feet up on a table, tipped back in his chair in that way...you know the way? The front legs are off the ground and he's leaning on the back? And you know any second he's going to fall backwards and crack his skull on the ground?

Bingo.

Tuesday Some Time

Man. Was I punished. You know, now that I think about it, other than the attempted murder-by-vase he pulled a while back, he never really raised a hand (or knife or gun or razor) to me. When I pushed him over int hat chair two days back, he got really angry at me. Like...chase-Hailey-through-the-house kinda angry, holding his head. When he picked up that knife off the egg crate/table, I panicked and started screaming really loud. He was only threatening, but being cornered by him holding that thing up with only the glint of a yellow bulb shining off it... I saw my life flash before my eyes.

Instead, he dropped it and kicked me so hard in the ribs that I got winded. I couldn't catch my breath and could only hold myself and curl up, praying he wouldn't kick again. He cursed some and left the room.

I lay crying for a good long while. I felt so miserable. I was really hurting, I had seen horrible things in the last month, no one's come looking for me, and suddenly, the thought that I was going to die became that much more real to me.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, Johnny was pulling me up into sitting position.

"Hey," he asked me, now sporting a black eye, "hey, you okay? Hey...look at me. Hailey look...Hailey LOOK AT ME! Are you looking? Tell me how many fingers I'm holding up so I know you're looking." I opened my eyes to see him wave a hand in frontt of my face. His gloves were kinda blending into the blackness of his living room so I didn't see the number of fingers. Which upset me because I thought if I gave him the wrong number, I'd get kicked or something. I started whimpering kinda pathetically.

"Okay," he said wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me up, "can you stand yet?" I tried, I really did, but the room took that opportunity to spin and I leaned so heavy into him that I almost knocked him off balance. However, somehow, he was able to drag me back to that room, the third one he'd given me, and more or less drop me onto the mattress.

"Please," I said as he turned to leave, "please let me go home." I started crying again and he twisted his head around to watch me. "Oh god, I just...I cant...please don't do this to me..." I wanted to get up and beat him into a bloody pulp...except I've seen so much of that lately I got sick thinking about it.

"I cant m'dear," he said, using a pet name I never imagined he'd ever use, "at this point...you're stuck with me. " He turned to me and smiled so widely I thought I saw the edges of his skull in the corners of his mouth. "But please...try to make this pleasant. I wont kick you again, okay? Okay, Hailey?"

That's all I remember of that day. 


	9. Stupidity

Wednesday Dinner Time

My ribs are bruised. Badly. And its sick, but Johnny knows it too. He came down earlier and just went and lifted my shirt straight up without regard to my privacy or modesty, and commented that he hoped he didn't break anything. He wears boots with pointed, cloven, CHROME toes, and he wailed on my ribcage. And I don't know if he DID break anything. It hurts real bad but I'm not sure its bad enough to be broken. I'm babbling now. Because I bored. And kinda disgusted.

He did bring down a can of chicken noodle and a plastic cup of water. Gourmet meal it was not, but he sat with me and ate his own ramen cup. The one yellow light bulb in THIS room didn't flicker, so we had some sort of light to eat by.

His house reminds me of someone's very old and decrepit basement. Cement walls with cracks and crumbles, mostly dark with a dim spotlight light bulb hanging from a single cord from the ceiling... My poor little room with the mattress and blanket...It was all very depressing.

I couldn't finish my soup and started crying again.

"you do too much of that for someone who hasn't even..." here he put down his Styrofoam cup and clenched both fists as though trying to thinking of a word, "...experienced anything yet. " he stood up and pointed a finger at me accusingly.

"You, Hailey, havent seen anything yet," he took a step towards me with both hands out almost pleading. "You havent seen or heard the...the...the filth, that you create yourself. You cant imagine that its there." he grasped my face. "I'm trying to help you."

"Help?" I stood up and swatted his hands away almost too easily. "Help? How have you helped me? You kidnapped me, you...you hurt me, you hurt all those people, and you say this is help? Are you fucking INSANE?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am," he said casually, "but you realize that all this is so out of your control that what you call me, whatever you say...it means nothing." he turned to walk back upstairs.

"I know what I'm doing," he said over his shoulder as he walked away.

Friday

I showered again. Have clean-ish clothes. Washed my hair properly with conditioner. Johnny placid and calm. Agreeable. Brushed out my hair for me for some reason as I sat at his feet while watching television. No blood today. Ribs healing now. Nice calm day. He looks normal and content, like the day I met him. No questions about Batgirl. Tired. Very tired. Lazy. Calm. I suspect I'm drugged off my gourd.

Saturday

Yup. Something in the soda Johnny gave me yesterday put me out. I wonder what he does when I'm asleep or unconscious otherwise. I wonder if I've been...tampered with. Like...should I be concerned about my body in ways other than getting beat up? I have no clue how to bring this up with him. He seems not the type... Oh and when this thought came to me, I remembered thinking the screaming from his house so long ago was sex happening. The truth as I see it now, is very very sickening and I actually threw up today. I havent done that in weeks. Lucky I was already in the bathroom and he didn't hear me...other wise, I might have gotten some more unwanted attention.

I had a dream thought, which means that either them chemicals had worn off by then or else maybe I wasn't drugged after all...

I dreamt I was in my old neighborhood from when I was a kid. I was running from something that wanted to hurt me, but I was kinda thinking maybe it was a joke. I stopped running when I realized it was no longer chasing me.

I walked around until I came to my parents house in the middle of the parking lot surrounded by the apartments I used to live near. It was on fire. Standing in front of it was a figure in black. I walked up next to them, staring into the fire. It was Johnny, and he was wearing a black trench coat with his hands by his side.

"You burned my house down!" I remember saying to him. He reached out one hand grabbed the back of my neck and pushed me forward.

"Maybe you should go home," he said stiffly. I resisted his pushing and he let go. He turned and walked back towards his car. I followed him. I looked up and saw the sky was dark. The clouds were yellow, black and grey, and swirling around in spirals.

"Look," I said pointing up at them. Johnny looked up too.

"That's what happens when people die." he said and then I woke up. Monday

I did something kinda stupid today. Really, really kinda stupid.

He was sitting with me in my little basement room and talking. I don't know what. I just know that halfway through my mac and cheese, I realized that his mouth was fascinating. The way it moved when he talked. I started staring at it and pretty soon, he noticed that I wasn't paying attention to him anymore. He snapped his teeth at me.

"You doing okay?" he asked me a little condescendingly. I sighed dramatically and rolled my eyes.

"No, actually, I have this secret," I started to say. He raised an eyebrow at me. "Can I tell you my secret?"

"Mmm...whats that?"

I crocked my finger at him. He hesitated for second, then carefully leaned forward.

"Well, I said lowering my voice. He looked at me a little suspiciously. Then I leaned forward fast and kissed him. He immediately grabbed my face in his thumb and index finger and caught my face in a very awkward post-pucker position. Suddenly, I felt really really stupid.

He pushed me back against the wall with one hand. Then stood. The single bulb shone weakly behind him.

"Don't you EVER do that again," he said threateningly. He stalked out, smashing the light bulb with his fist as he left.

So I was alone in the dark for a few hours. 


	10. Leaving the Nest

Wednesday 

So, they call it Stockholm Syndrome. It when you start to feel some sort of relation to your captors or enemies. They say you only feel it because they hurt you, but then bring relief when they don't, say, kill you, or if they feed you.

I'm guessing that's what came over me that night. I mean, I really, REALLY don't see why I did what I did. I truly don't have any idea. The only reason I can think of was because I was craving some positive attention. Maybe I thought that if I was to do something that usually signified attraction or a good emotion, he'd understand. Or maybe...be nice back? Maybe let me go? Maybe not force me to live here in hell with the bodies of these people and listen to their screams?

Its hard to put into words, really. Here I am, still alive, so close to freedom yet so far...and with a serial killer, and I'm so sick of the pain and misery and loneliness that I actually would prefer his company to the darkness. Hear him talk a little? Maybe not experience his boot in my ribs anymore but...ug. I don't know what it is anymore.

But I feel stupid for what I did and now I bet he'll either leave me to starve down here or else he'll kill me directly.

Thursday

Felt so sick today that even if Johnny DID come down here, I wouldn't have the heart to eat food. Not that he's been down for two days. I feel kind of alone and very hungry. And I'm in total darkness. Almost. I have my old lighter and Ive been using that to write things. I want that bulb fixed. Oh God. And I'm so hungry. Christ, I'm due for my period any day now and I'm STUCK HERE alone for days with only a notebook, a lighter, and a watch that has a cracked screen now that I'm looking straight at it.

I've decided to leave here. I'm busting out. I'm leaving. I am going AWAY.

_This is the end of part 1. Thank you to everyone who left me comments (and you know who you are, Im just too lazy to go back and get your names, but basically anyone who reviewed more than once is given my love and a bag of doritos)._

_I'm certainly going to continue this story because I have gotten a sort of direction for it...and for those who asked about the dream...its an actual dream I had a little while back, only it wasnt Johnny who was in it. I put him there because it was too cool a dream NOT to add to a story. _

_See you all real soon, and thanks again!_

_The MathGoth_


End file.
